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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434034">‘cause now i have nothing left and i am scared to death</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>3x06, 3x07, Angst, Eating Disorders, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, More tags to be added, Sad, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, i’ve forgotten how to tag rn, wlw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:28:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd done and said out loud, in a hallway people, what she couldn't. It didn't matter if she wasn't completely sure of it, but there was a reason why she couldn't say it. And she had never been so scared in her whole life of losing anything.</p><p>[aka, 3x06 &amp; 3x07 - Santana's coming out, but a retake]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Uhh... so I had a cute li'l 'Glee' rewatch five years late, and Santana's coming out (more so, outed) storyline really kind of pissed me off. 'I Kissed A Girl' is an awful episode and I feel kinda sad because there's so much more that could've been done and explored with it... but no, we have Finn sing a bit, and then everything is okay. So, for some reason, I'm rewriting it instead of doing my uni assignments.</p><p>Hey presto, here we are, it will be multi-chapter and I don't know how long, and I might also go back and redo this chapter once I get a bit further in... I shall keep you posted... it's kinda crap right now, though, as I haven't written any fics in about half a year now, but we’ll get through it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Everyone's gonna know now, because of you!" she pointed her finger at Finn, teeth gritted together in fury, but the fear and panic and insecurity was shining through and it was blinding.</p><p>She looks terrified, Brittany thought to herself. Absolutely terrified.</p><p>The blonde tried to step forward but it felt like her feet were stuck to the floor of the auditorium where they were, it felt like her knees were jammed and she couldn't move a muscle in her body to walk forward and try to do something to help her girlfriend, calm her down, anything. She just stood there, like the rest of the Troubletones, watching as everything which had been locked inside Santana for so long was tumbling out.</p><p>It was like the dam had broken. There had been cracks in it, and more and more pressure built up and the cracks got bigger, and then something must've happened because now there wasn't a dam keeping everything inside its barriers anymore.</p><p>Finn seemed to have realised what she was going on about at this point. He blinked a few times, but his voice was now the slightest bit softer than before, quieter. If that were possible.</p><p>"The whole school already knows, and you know what, they don't care-"</p><p>The whole auditorium now had begun to click. Brittany could see on their faces. None of them looked like they wanted to be watching. Kurt looked worried where this conversation was going. Quinn was biting her lip and looking at her nails, trying to avoid meeting anyone's gaze.</p><p>"Not just the school, you idiot, everyone!"</p><p>Everyone? What- what did she mean, everyone? Did her parents find out?</p><p>What happened, though? Santana had been missing all afternoon, and when she'd arrived at the auditorium ready to perform, she'd looked paler than usual, she was quieter than usual, but still, it wasn't like they had time to talk before Ms Cocoran had rounded them up and told them to perform.</p><p>Finn now just looked confused and pissed all over again. He tried to talk again but barely said three words before the sound of skin on skin echoed through the auditorium, followed by a sharp silence.</p><p>Santana flinched back, so far backwards that she was up with her against the stage, her knuckles white from gripping the trim behind her so hard. Her face was in disbelief. Her breathing sped up all of a sudden, it sounded like she had just ran a marathon, and even from this spot on the stage Brittany could see that had began to shake violently from head to toe as a single tear rolled down her cheek.</p><p>"Santana…"</p><p>The room was still silent, besides Brittany's soft voice.</p><p>The Latina spun around quickly at her name, catching her eye for a second, but she broke the contact before anything else could happen. Santana turned back around, and taking a shaky breath she suddenly darted from where she was, up the steps to the hallway, tripping up a few with how fast she was going.</p><p>"Santana!"</p><p>Mr Schue was calling after her, barely back to reality himself, his voice kind of distance in disbelief. But it was still his 'teacher voice'... like, the serious voice he used when talking about Spanish exams or homework, not really the voice he used when he was talking about Glee.</p><p>"Leave me the fuck alone!" the girl cried out back as she almost reached the top, and from the tone of it and the slight quiver, Brittany knew that she was crying now.</p><p>She was terrified. She looked terrified and she also had looked so sad for that whole performance but it hadn't really occurred to the blonde girl until now that something could be wrong, which was stupid because the two girls knew each other like clockwork, yet she just hadn't noticed that anything big was wrong.</p><p>Everyone's gonna know now, though? She didn't know what was going on.</p><p>Finn was still clutching his left check, a red mark now beginning to form on it, and Rachel was being all overly attentive to it. The Troubletones on stage were still stood where they were, too shocked to move. Most of New Directions was sat murmuring amongst themselves or just pretending that what had just happened in front of them had not just happened. Mr Schue was talking to Shelby with a strained expression with a low voice.</p><p>Tina was the first to speak up.</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>Nobody replied. They just stared at her.</p><p>"Brittany," Mercedes was now right next to her, and she reached out to put her hand on her elbow gently. "Do you have any idea what's going on? What happened?"</p><p>The blonde shrugged. She didn't really know what to say. What to say and what not to say, she didn't know what everybody else knew, especially right now.</p><p>"I need to go talk to her."</p><p>"She seemed really weird all performance," Sugar commented.</p><p>Brittany swallowed hard, but shook her head.</p><p>"I need to go talk to her," she repeated. She could feel the lump in her throat begin to grow and her eyes were stinging, but she just shook her head and walked down the steps and up to the deserted hallway, scared at how scared Santana was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prioritise writing over everyone else? I mean, Chapter 3 is almost there too, can’t say the same for my assignment due next week but it’s fine... I say.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was after school so the corridors were quiet, barely anybody around, but she knew that there were a load of extra curriculars currently on, so she couldn't go to the locker rooms or anywhere really. There would be people there, and she wanted nothing more right now than to just be alone. She ignored the first bathroom, turning up the steps to the second bathroom she could find by the modern languages classrooms. They were much in need of an update and were kind of grotty, hence why most people tended to just go to the ones downstairs, but in that situation she didn't even care, so long as nobody else found her in her hiding place.</p><p>She slumped down against the wall opposite the door, her whole body shaking as she tried to calm herself but she soon figured that she <em>couldn't </em>calm herself. Her breathing was heavy, and she couldn't control it whatever she tried to do. She felt dizzy and light-headed and her throat and chest felt so hard, and she began to panic more than she had been initially.</p><p>She began to regret hiding so far away.</p><p>It wasn't the first time she'd had a panic attack like this, but still, they weren't fun and this was probably the worst she'd had in a while. This time, it was so bad that she couldn't even tell if it were a panic attack or a heart attack or a seizure or something.</p><p>She gripped at her chest and tried to suck in air but it didn't work. Frustrated, she closed her eyes, hit her head back against the grubby cracked tiles on the wall, and the only thing she could do was sob forcefully into her hands, her whole body throbbing, her hands staining with smeared eye makeup. She could only imagine what she looked up if she could stand up and look at herself in the mirror.</p><p>"Santana-"</p><p>She was sobbing so hard that she barely heard the footsteps approaching, the creak of the door to the bathroom opening. She could barely register the blur of blonde and pale skin and black clothes rushing to her side in an instant. Her whole body was numb. She could barely even register the hands gently tugging at her arm to pry her hands away from her face. She knew that the other girl was telling her something but everything sounded like she was underwater.</p><p>"Santana, it's okay-"</p><p>She tried to take a deep, shaky breath that rattled her ribcage, but it hurt. She tried to speak, but she couldn't get the words out. It felt like her throat was blocked. Eventually she managed to croak out a sentence but it barely came out as a whisper.</p><p>"Britt, I- I can't breathe-"</p><p>Brittany put her hand on the other girl's shoulder and tried again to pull her hands away from her face again, but it came to no avail.</p><p>"Honey-"</p><p>Santana shook her head frantically this time. "I can't- I can't breathe, Brittany. Something's wrong."</p><p>At this point, Brittany finally began to understand. She hesitated, biting at the inside of her lip, before giving a small shake of her head and settling on the floor in front of her girlfriend and pulling her close to her chest. Her heart broke as she felt just how badly the other girl was shaking against her.</p><p>"Shh. Try and relax. I'm here."</p><p>She felt the latina shake her head against her. "I can't-"</p><p>"Yeah, you can. You can, just try and go slowly. Don't talk, just focus on your breathing. I'm right here, Sanny. I'm here and I'm not leaving."</p><p>At first, it only made Santana cry out harder, but eventually the girl's violent shivers alleviated to become a subtle tremble, but at this point the sobbing took over as the depth of the issue suddenly began to step in. One thing was done, but this wasn't even gonna be the worst of it, Brittany knew that. She had never seen Santana cry this much. She didn't really express her emotions, or talk about them or anything. And it was scary. Especially when she had no idea how much the brunette had kept bottled up for so long, nor the extent of it.</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>Santana took a deep, shuddering breath.</p><p>"Everyone knows. About me."</p><p>Brittany's heart dropped in an instant. Santana had only told her earlier that she was worried about things being too obvious, that people were questioning it, with a look of panic on her face. If she'd been that worried earlier then what had happened between then and now?</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"Finn said it in the hallway yesterday," she was trembling again. Brittany made a point about trying to pull her closer to her body. "I went to apologise but-" she trailed off. "And someone heard, someone heard, and now it's gonna be all over the TV. Everyone's gonna know… they're gonna see it… my parents-"</p><p>The latina's heart rate was rising again, Brittany trying to hush her again. They stayed like that for several minutes, the blonde girl quietly talking to her and Santana calming down a little, and then breaking out into more sobs just as they thought the storm was over.</p><p>This was bad… this was bad.</p><p>"Santana?"</p><p>Brittany's head flicked up quickly at the sound of a familiar voice, turning around to see Quinn stood in the doorway with a confused but pitiful expression on her face. She let a breathe go. She was less close to Quinn now than in the past, but she supposed they were still friends, and she kind of knew that the blonde was going through shit right now so she forgave her, since she knew Quinn was actually a good person at heart who just made a lot of bad decisions. Kind of like Santana. Everyone thought she was a bad person when she was the opposite of it.</p><p>She forced a smile.</p><p>"Hey Quinn."</p><p>Brittany nodded her over, she the blonde nervously walked over towards Santana, kneeling at her side and wrapping her arms around her neck without saying a word as Brittany got up to grab some tissues from the dispenser. Santana sobbed and leaned into her, and Quinn took that as a go to held her tighter.</p><p>"Mr Schue told us about what happened. Kind of. I'm so sorry… I- I figured you weren't wanting to go back in there, though, so I brought you your bags."</p><p>Brittany nodded, knowing that the latina probably wasn't going to say anything. "Thanks, Q."</p><p>"You're welcome," Quinn nodded, rubbing the brunette's shoulder gently and turning her attention towards her. "Hey, I don't really know what else to say right now… but had a feeling… the way you were around each other when nobody else was paying attention. And I'm glad you're happy."</p><p>Santana shook her head and cried more. The two blondes exchanged concerned glances, but stayed silent for another little while before Santana had finally calmed her breathing a bit, it still a bit rocky but calmer nonetheless.</p><p>She pulled away. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was frizzy. Brittany quickly grabbed her water bottle from her bad and gave it to her.</p><p>"I'm so tired, Brit. I'm so tired."</p><p>"You can come stay at mine tonight, if you want. So that you don't have to face your parents."</p><p>The latina glanced down at the floor, knowing that if she made eye contact right now then she would probably break down again. Still, she nodded. Brittany stood up, offering her a hand as she tried to get back on her feet. Her knees were shaking and she kind of looked like she could collapse again at any given moment, so she moved her hands to her waist instead. She heard the door go but she figured Quinn had gone to get it again.</p><p>She forced a smile.</p><p>"You're gonna be okay."</p><p>Or at least, she hoped.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Damn I'm being productive today... I deserve a medal... or at least sleep.</p><p>PS - my chapters have been so regular in length so far? That never happens with me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They ended up going to Brittany’s house. It wasn’t really properly planned out, but there’d been some subconscious decision not to go back to Santana’s house and then the next thing she knew, she was knocking on the front door with her arm around her girlfriend protectively, and then they were suddenly sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a glass of water in front of each of them, Brittany’s mother sat across from them with a concerned expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Santana hadn’t spoken since they’d left the school. They’d spent the whole drive in silence, and she’d only occasionally hummed in agreement to something Brittany has said to her. It just didn’t feel like she had any words inside her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say, or what anyone wanted her to say, in response to what had just happened. She didn’t have the energy to say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom, is it okay if Santana stays here for the weekend?” Brittany finally said with pleading eyes, breaking the silence. “I don’t want her to go home…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older woman sighed. “Brittany-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, mom,” she paused, not really sure how to get the news across without going too far deep into things. She glanced across at Santana for a few moments but her attention was more focused on the half-empty cup of water, or at least she was pretending that was the case. “Something happened… to do with Sue’s campaign… and it says some things she doesn’t want getting out and especially not that way, and I don’t want for her to be alone when that campaign ad airs on TV-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older woman’s face softened and, with a frown, she leaned over to rub her daughter’s shoulder. Once again, she shifted in her seat to turn to Santana and placed her hand over the girl’s own, shaking it gently to get her attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course you can stay here, honey,” the blonde woman uttered softly. “Yeah. Just let me know if we can do anything to help you, okay? Do you have any clothes or anything with you? I can go round yours and pick some stuff up if you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Santana shook her head, looking up with glazed over eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, thank you. I can borrow some of Britt’s. I think I have some stuff around here anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Mrs Pierce had fought, insisting that it wouldn’t be any hassle for her to go around to Santana’s house and picked something up, but Santana had stood her ground and with Brittany doing the same as well, in the end the older woman realised that the dark haired girl wasn’t going to be changing her mind any time soon. With that, the two girls made their way upstairs to Brittany’s bedroom, and Santana had excused herself to shower and get dressed pretty much straight away. She came out dressed in one of Brittany’s sweatshirts and a pair of black leggings which were a bit baggy on her from the size difference, but they were good enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was barely 7pm by the time both of them were in bed and the lights were out. Outside, it was still that time of year where it wasn’t quite dark, so she could still see the other girl’s silhouette in the room even if she couldn’t make out much else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They laid in silence for a while, Santana pulled as close to Brittany as she could and the blonde could feel her breath on her chest. Part of her felt relieved that her breathing was back to normal after earlier, but when she reached up to stroke her neck she could feel her pulse and frowned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your heart is beating really fast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The latina shifted next to her. “Yeah, it must be from earlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither quite knew what else to say for a while, so they laid there in silence for a bit longer. The thump-thump-thump of Santana’s heart was still fast, so the blonde knew that she wasn’t asleep or at least anywhere near.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you parents know you’re here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt her girlfriend nod against her. “Yeah. I text them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did they respond?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, yeah.” She took a shaky breath, and Brittany thought it sounded like the other girl was crying, or at least on the verge of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so scared, Brittany. I can’t tell them. I just can’t. They’ll hate me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde wrapped an arm tighter around her waist, holding her closer to her. She sighed, shushing the other girl’s quiet cries. “They’re gonna find out at some point, honey. I know it’s scary but maybe if we try and figure out what to do soon then it will be better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not gonna get better, Brittany.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other girl’s sobs became louder, as much as she tried to stifle them. Brittany didn’t really know how to respond. She knew the other girl’s relationship with her parents was rocky at best, but she’d never really known the full extent to which. She just knew that they were the type who went to church twice a week, and that they prioritised their jobs over their daughter. All those factors in mind didn’t sound promising, but nonetheless, she tried to push it back down and tried to focus on stroking and braiding her girlfriend’s hair subconsciously until she eventually cried herself to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took her Brittany a while to do the same, She spent a while staring at the girl in bed next to her, her shattered form, and trying to figure out how to put the pieces back together. She couldn’t think of anything to improve it all, really, either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four hours later, with no inspiration on the matter coming anywhere near her, the blonde also finally shut her eyes, but not without a tender kiss on the other girl’s forehead. One of many to come, or at least that’s what she hoped, but with how things had decided to play out, not even she - Brittany S Pierce, who always seemed to be able to think of a new way to deal with something, a new way to make someone feel happier - knew at this point.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whew, am TIRED! Haven't really been too busy these past few days, had actually planned on posting this yesterday as our afternoon lecture was cancelled and I had a load of time stuck at uni but I ended up trying (and somewhat succeeding!) in getting a bit further in my assignment due next Friday! So, might post between now and then - hopefully I will - but excuse me if I don't... gotta figure out how academic posters work... ugh, just gimme an essay now that I've actually figured out how to format them properly! Anyway, next chapter I'm planning on going a bit more into Brittany's aspect of things since I'm neglected that a bit since the first chapter, other than that... tadaaaa!</p><p>TW for self harm this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, San."</p><p>The latina winced as a hand shook her shoulder gently and the bright light coming through the window hit her, and she immediately pulled the covers back up to her face.</p><p>"Too bright-"</p><p>She heard a quiet laugh.</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>Santana chewed the inside of her cheek, a habit which had formed when she was confused about something or trying to figure out the answer to a question. Why was Brittany here? Why was Brittany speaking to her? Where was she? She tried to open her eyes more, but they hadn't yet adjusted so it felt like she had just ripped a band aid off.</p><p>"Sorry for waking you up. I just have to leave for school now, because dad said he'd drive me on his way to work, and I figured you wouldn't want to come in… and I didn't wanna just leave you without saying goodbye."</p><p>"Why- what time is-"</p><p>It suddenly all clicked. Why she was in Brittany's bed. Why she wasn't going in. Why her eyes felt like a pin cushion. It hit her like a brick in the chest. And the next thing she knew, she had a pair of arms wrapped around her and a hand rubbing her back.</p><p>"Don't cry!"</p><p>Brittany sounded so sad, so concerned, that it made her heart break even more. She moved an arm to try return the hug, clutching the other girl as tight as she could, afraid to let go. It was a while before the blonde pulled away, and once again, Santana felt that emptiness in her chest without her touch. The blonde guides Santana back down to the bed slowly, pulling the covers up to her neck and tucking her in, stroking her messy hair and flattening it down as she placed a kiss to her forehead.</p><p>"You'll be okay here?" Santana couldn't ignore how it was more of a question than a statement, as if her girlfriend wasn't even sure whether she'd be okay or not but wanted to pretend everything was a slight bit in order. "You've got your phone and I'll text you, or you can text me if you need anything. Mom's gonna be leaving for work in a little bit but she'll probably let you know when she's going. You can go and have something to eat if you want, you know where everything is, okay?"</p><p>The latina whined. "I don't want you to leave." She sounded like a child, begging a parent not to go out without them, Brittany only bit her lip and shook her head as she stood up and started to gather her things to leave.</p><p>"I'll see you later, 'kay?"</p><hr/><p>Santana had waited until she'd heard the Pierce's main car leave their driveway before shutting her eyes again. She didn't sleep, though, for a for a while anyway. She couldn't. She turned over, burying herself beneath the covers as if they'd protect her from the hell she was living in right now, trying to remember what had actually happened at first and then going on to think of a way to stop it. When she couldn't, she tried to drift back to sleep, since those twelve hours had been peaceful and painless and it meant that she wouldn't have to think about anything. She woke up again at eleven, but this time the whole situation hit as soon as she opened her eyes.</p><p>She stayed in bed for another hour before bothering to get up. She didn't have any motivation to move right now, and it kind of felt like her body was underwater, so she just stared at the wall in front of her.</p><p>Until she needed to go to the bathroom, and realised that she couldn't really put it off much longer because it was getting uncomfortable. Every joint ached so badly, but she managed to push herself up and wander into the bathroom.</p><p>Her mouth felt dry and disgusting so she took some of Brittany's mouthwash and rinsed it out. She splashed her face with some water and tried to rub off some more of her smeared eyeliner. Searching for a makeup wipe, she didn't have much success, but that's when she saw it.</p><p>She picked up the blade and twiddled it around her fingers for a little bit. She sighed, staring at her reflection again before leaning on the sink and drawing a line across the inside of her elbow.</p><p>At first, it didn't do much. Nothing happened. Frustrated, she moved a little further down her slender forearm and made another three, angrier cuts horizontally across her arm, this time drawing blood. She did it again. It stung a bit, but it didn't actually feel that bad?</p><p>She stared at for a little while with an empty feeling in her chest before the realisation of what she'd done set in. She cursed under her breath, grabbing a load of toilet paper and dabbing her arm, before wandering into the main bathroom to find some gauze and bandage.</p><p>The Pierce house was a nice size, five double bedrooms and four bathrooms with a large kitchen, but at the same time it was cosy, with a nice, warm, family feel to it. She couldn't really remember what Brittany's parents did for a living besides that both of them worked. She briefly wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a glass for water before heading into the living room and collapsing onto the couch.</p><p>There wasn't much on TV at this time of day. She ended up putting on some crappy house-buying show on, because she really couldn't stand <em>The Simpsons</em> or anything like that. She didn't really watch much of it, finding herself staring at the screen with her mind elsewhere for the most part, but it filled the silence at least.</p><p>She stared at the large clock which hung over the fireplace. Around quarter to two, meaning Brittany would be home in the next hour. She tried to smile at the thought, but the guilt of her being dragged into it, and the guilt of what had happened in the bathroom earlier was already beginning to overwhelm her. She felt a tightness in her chest again.</p><p>She just wanted this all to be over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello hello AHHH! So, finally handed in my assignment, which is why I'm writing without feeling overly guilty right now. Also got the results of another assignment from a while back today, and I got another first in it! Two uni assignments down, two firsts, damn, WTF is this, feels like that bit in S4 when Brittany realises she's actually a genius and oh my LORD, I'm just so happy?! Anyway, as mentioned in last chapter, this one is more focusing a bit more on Brittany's perception of what's going on. Kinda did a bit of a diary entry sorta style, because I just thought that was very characteristic of her… regardless, hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Brittany had learned one thing about Rory in his time staying at hers, it was that he talked a lot and she couldn't understand most of what he was saying. He probably meant well and all, but it was kind of hard to have a conversation with him.</p><p>On this particular day, they were walking home from school together. Brittany's parents worked until five on a Friday and her sister, Stacey, usually had some after school activity on, so she'd had the house to herself. On most Fridays, she'd spent that time with the free house with Santana, and that was kinda what was happening tonight, but not in the same way.</p><p>"Is your friend doing okay, Brittany?" the blonde blinked, narrowing her eyes as she tried to focus on words the Irish boy was producing. "I saw what happened at rehearsal yesterday and your mother was saying something about her having to stay here for the weekend last night at dinner, but I don't know anything else. She wasn't at school today, was she?"</p><p>Able to understand a fragment of what he'd said, Brittany shook her head sadly and stared at the ground disappearing under her feet.</p><p>"No. She's not okay."</p><p>She was sure that more would come out, but soon she realised she wasn't. Like she was lost for words or something.</p><p>"She will be okay, though, won't she?"</p><p>The words chill her to the core. She sighs, looking to the boy with sad, sincere eyes.</p><p>"Hopefully. But she isn't right now."</p><p>The rest of the walk was in silence, until they eventually made it to the porch of the Pierce family home. Brittany reached into the hanging basket above her, feeling around for the keys she knew were kept in there (because she always forgot hers, and the doormat was too obvious apparently), unlocking the door and walking in. She closed it after Rory, before kicking her sneakers off and dumping her bag by the stairs to be carried up later.</p><p>"Santana?" she called up the stairs, unsure where abouts the brunette would be. She was responded to with a call in response from the lounge, which she wandered into, finding Santana walking towards her with a small smile on her face, arms outstretched to hug her. Brittany frowned at how she was still in the same clothes from last night, her hair down and probably unbrushed. She reached in to hug her, relieved as she inhaled the brunette's scent and realised that she was no longer shaking like she had been earlier, which was a good thing.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>"Hey," Brittany whispered back. "What have you been doing all day?"</p><p>Santana pulled away, her eyes flashing with something for a second - panic, guilt, sadness… she wasn't quite sure what, really - before they moved away back to the floor and she cleared her throat.</p><p>"Not much. I watched some TV," she breathed. "How about you?"</p><p>Brittany shrugged.</p><p>"The usual. It was uneventful."</p><p>There was a moment of silence before Brittany pulled her girlfriend close again.</p><p>"I missed you today."</p><p>"I missed you too."</p><p>"Do you want to do anything this afternoon? We usually eat quite late on a Friday, when my dad gets back. We can go out, or watch a movie, or… I don't mind."</p><p>Santana shrugged. Her eyes flashed with sadness for a second, but she snapped out of it for a bit. Brittany gave her a quizzical look for a few seconds, but then gave in, disregarding it.</p><p>She'd been through hell and back and then back through hell again these past few days. It was probably that.</p><p>"Movie. Mamma Mia."<br/><br/></p><hr/><p>
  <em>Dear Journal,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I missed Santana at school today. It was strange without her there. Yeah, I had other people to hang with, I had Glee club, but it was hard not having her in Spanish so she could just tell me the answers. I had to sit next to Kurt instead and, well, I'm glad he wants to go into theatre and not become a languages teacher or something because I think he'd even be worse than Mr Schue. I hope he doesn't try and audition for anywhere where he needs to sing in Spanish because I don't think he'd even get a callback.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm so scared. Santana is really hurting and I don't know what do to. Whenever she smiles or laughs, her eyes still look sad, like a lost and confused puppy. I don't know whether she's slept too much or not enough, because she has bags under her eyes, and at first I thought it was just her makeup but then she took her makeup off this morning and she still looks bad. She's asleep right now. She fell asleep when we were watching the movie, just before the wedding bit, and it's now half ten. She didn't really want anything to eat, she said, and that's not too much unlike Sanny but the way she said it this time was different. And usually she'll eat something when she's round here, even if it's not much. I don't remember the last time she ate. She didn't last night, and I doubt she would've when I was at school.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe I'll order takeout from Breadstix tomorrow. Maybe that will get her to eat. And Quinn said that she wanted to come over as well, but I haven't told Santana that yet so I'll have to check with her first.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Our first date was at Breadstix. Well… she thought it was her first proper date, but I thought it was, like, our eighth date. But Santana's a straight A student (actually, maybe she's more like a lesbian A student, because she's not straight) and I'm not really, so I'll take her word on that. But still. I want to go on another Breadstix date with her. When she's happy and all this drama isn't going on. Because this drama is more dramatic than Rachel when she doesn't get a solo.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The ad is airing tomorrow. Coach Sue told me that she was going to try and take it down, or do something about it, but she looked unsure. And she told me to be ready. So that's another reason why I want a Breadstix date at home tomorrow, maybe with Quinn and maybe Mercedes and maybe Sugar too, so that we don't have to think about it. Actually, no, maybe Sugar won't be a good idea because she has no filters on another level. I know that I have to tell Santana about the ad tomorrow morning, though, and I don't want to fall asleep right now because the sooner I fall asleep, the sooner tomorrow will come and I don't want tomorrow to come.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just want for her to be okay, Journal.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm tired now. And I'm kind of bored. I miss our sweet lady kisses and I can't really watch a movie incase I wake her up. So… so long, Journal.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, damn, I got this up quickly? Woke up this morning and was on a roll, wrote on the uni bus, finished it off at uni. Was meant to include more this chapter but it was getting long, and, well, I like my chapters to be even in length so decided to go and update early! No clue when next chapter will be out, some of it is already written but I'm not gonna upload again in the next twenty four hours (hopefully not, anyway) and I'm out all day tomorrow. We will have to see!</p><p>TW for self harm and an implied eating disorder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the smell of Brittany's mom making pancakes downstairs that woke Santana up on the Saturday. She rubbed her eyes, noticing how dry they felt and how sore the skin on her cheeks was to touch from how much she had cried these past few days, before blearily looking up to the clock. It was around half seven. Brittany usually got up at eight on the weekends, and to be honest Santana wouldn't get out of bed until near noon most Saturdays but then she remembered how much she'd slept these past two days and it all made sense. She glanced over to Brittany. She was still fast asleep, her plush duck cuddled in her arms, with a serious expression on her face, like she was stressing about something.</p><p>The latina laid there for a while, not sure what to do, trying to process something, <em>anything</em>, for the first time properly in a while, before heaving herself up and wandering into the bathroom, grabbing some spare clothes on her way in.</p><p>Apparently she was more tired than she thought, because she'd had to sit down on the toilet seat the second she'd closed the door, her heart racing. No, Santana, you're not tired, you're anything but tired with how much you've been sleeping these past few days. Regaining a steady heart rate again, she sighed, standing up and getting undressed quietly before putting her hair in a bun and jumping in the shower. She knew the water running would probably wake Brittany up. She wouldn't need to be a long time in there, she didn't like washing her hair in the morning anyway. Wet hair was disgusting and she didn't need that negativity in her life right now.</p><p>She stared at the cuts on her arm for a little too long. The bandage she'd put on them earlier was now off and they were still red and fresh and angry. She swallowed hard, her heart beating fast in her chest as she reached into her pocket, feeling around for the small, cold bit of metal, staring at it for a second before taking it to her arm again, over and over, not stopping.</p><p>And it was just like that. She put the blade down, rinsed it in the sink and put it back in her pocket. She rinsed the blood off her arm, and only then did it hit her what she'd done.</p><p>She'd have these red, ugly marks all over her arm. And then they'd turn into scars, white little lines running across her skin, and it'd be so, so obvious. She couldn't wear short sleeves for a while. People would find out, get suspicious. The Cheerios… what about that? They wore baselayers at competitions, and she was pretty sure she could at practice if she needed to, it was drawing closer to winter, after all. But, oh god, Brittany… Brittany would find out and that would scare and upset her and she couldn't do that to the girl. She's already dragged her into so much with all this shit.</p><p>"Santana? Are you okay in there?"</p><p>The brunette panicked, wiping her eyes quickly.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>"Yeah? I'm- I'm in here Brittany."</p><p>She tried to sound strong but her voice betrayed her, cracking in the middle as she forced the words out.</p><p>"Are you crying?" the other girl sounded said, and Santana wanted to smash herself round the forehead for that.</p><p>"No."</p><p>The door banged at bit, the handle moving. "Do you want me to come in?"</p><p>Shit! Shit, no.</p><p>"Just go downstairs, 'kay? I'll be down in a second. I'm almost done in here."</p><p>She quickly grabbed the gauze from yesterday and rewrapped her arm, biting her lip with more tears leaking out as it started to sting, and pulled her clothes on, giving her hair a quick brush and made her way down the stairs to the Pierce kitchen. The smell of maple and bacon hit her instantly. She paused at the door for a second, listening inside. She could hear Brittany and her mother talking but she couldn't hear it properly, so eventually she just gave in and walked on through, flashing Whitney Pierce a smile as she pulled a chair out next to Brittany, opposite her sister.</p><p>"Did you sleep well, Santana?"</p><p>The latina managed a smile and nod, reaching across for her girlfriend's hand under the table. The blonde smiled back at her but there was concern and worry flashing in her eyes. She looked like she was going to say something, but was cut off as her mother placed a plate of fresh pancakes in front of each of them.</p><p>She stared at them for a while, moving her fork between her fingers, the cold metal warming up a bit to her body heat. She thought she was hungry, but simply staring at it made her lose her appetite. She knew she hadn't eaten for a day or two now, but it was like she couldn't.</p><p>"Santana," Brittany whispered, nudging her with her elbow, "eat."</p><p>She noticed her mother was giving her a wary, pitiful look, a small worried smile on her face yet again - god, she was so sick of the pity, it made her feel even worse than she already did in a way. She cut off a bit of the pancake, stabbing it with her fork and staring at it for a while.</p><p>It wasn't even that she didn't want to eat it. She did, she knew that she was hungry, she knew that she had to try and eat some of it. It was just that her heart was racing and blood was rushing in her ears so much, her stomach was doing somersaults, and it just felt like she was going to be sick.</p><p>It's the anxiety of it all. It was unbearable, it felt like she couldn't breathe.</p><p>Frustrated at her own body screaming mixed messages at her and the need to settle her stomach, she shoved the piece of pancake into her mouth, chewing furiously and swallowing it down with a gulp of water. It kind of made things better, it made the next few bites easier at least until her plate was clear. Whitney offered her more, but with the forced effort of the last bite in mind, Santana was pretty sure she'd be sick if she ate anything more. Breakfast wasn't something she really did anyway.</p><p>"Brittany said she was wondering if you wanted to have some friends round tonight."</p><p>Santana blinked and furrowed her eyebrows.</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>The blonde's hand squeezed hers tightly. "I thought it would be a good distraction. From… y'know-"</p><p>She blinked. "Distraction from what?" The turned back to the blonde girl. "Distraction."</p><p>"Santana," Brittany's voice was low and serious. "San. The ad's running tonight."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short chapter today, had a rough few days plus I have a bit of an injured jaw (yay to car doors in gusts of wind!), so I haven't been able to write an awful lot! Also been in and out 24/7 since Sunday as we kinda have a storm here (by UK standards, anyway) and our fence went down, my dogs keep wanting to visit the neighbours, the neighbours don't wanna see them… you get the idea… anyway, just not had a proper time to write properly! Anyway, we're back now, next chapter will hopefully be up by the end of the week!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, you look like shit."</p><p>Quinn tossed her her lighter once she'd lit her own cigarette so that the latina could light hers. Smoking wasn't something she'd ever really done as a habit. It was more of a social thing, really. Whenever she was at a party she'd smoke, or whenever she was really stressed she'd smoke, but it wasn't really a 'this many a day' sort of thing. She knew that her mom probably knew about her smoking, and she probably hated it, and she knew that Brittany didn't like her doing it.</p><p>The first thing Quinn had done when she'd got inside, alongside Sugar and Mercedes (thank the lord Rachel hadn't been invited because she couldn't think she could bear the thought of spending time with her right now, and Tina had been apparently but she was going on a date with Mike or something), was flash her pack in front of her with a small, sorry smile, and they'd ended up on the Pierce's driveway.</p><p>"Didn't realise you still smoked, Q."</p><p>It wasn't with malice or bitchiness or whatever, more out of pure curiosity. And also to deter the conversation from going to her right away, which seemed the way it was heading.</p><p>"Yeah," the blonde laughed. "It's harder to quit than I thought it would be. But it's almost a pack less a day than it was over summer, so that's a start."</p><p>Santana scoffed. "How many packs a day were you smoking back then? Four?"</p><p>Quinn smiled, flicking the ashes on the floor.</p><p>"I don't think I'll ever stop properly, y'know?," she replied. "I mean, yeah, fewer would be better for the bank. And my relationship with my mom. She doesn't like me doing it. But she's kinda cool now. She's been happier and less uptight than dad left her two years ago, and he doesn't want to see me anymore anyway. I don't care."</p><p>There were a few minutes of silence, neither girl speaking as they smoked. Santana kind of liked it that way. No talking meant that there was no interrogation, or pity or questioning. She'd always thought that silence was the enemy, a symbol of loneliness or something, but here on the driveway considering everything that had happened over the past few days, it was very welcome.</p><p>"So, I assume Brittany told you that the ad was running tonight."</p><p>The latina shook at the word, it chilling her to the core. Quinn seemed to realise this quickly.</p><p>"I'm sorry. I-" she paused again, not sure what to say, "I was wondering how you were dealing. Like… you tell me, not me tell you what I think."</p><p>Santana looked down at the floor, slumping against the outside wall.</p><p>"I don't want to talk about it, Quinn. Please, just one night…"</p><p>"Santana, you can't just ignore it," she responded. "The ad is literally airing tonight. I'm sorry, but you have to deal with it. Everything's gonna change. Have you even told your parents yet?"</p><p>The latina shuddered, tears threatening her once again.</p><p>"Please, Quinn…"</p><p>The blonde seemed to get the idea, falling silent for a couple.</p><p>"This is only the start of it all, Santana," <em>oh, great, Quinn was now using her mom-voice. She had a child, put it up for adoption, but still gained that 'parenting' tone she used with people and she was using it right now.</em> "You're already falling apart, whether you care or not, and it's going to get a whole lot worse. You can't keep pushing us away, you know that."</p><p>Santana felt sick again and she felt a shoot of pain go up her wrist, but she tried not to show it, and ducked her head just in case Quinn would pick up on the way Santana knew her face was draining of blood.</p><p>Things are going to get worse. They were going to get worse and they were already this bad.</p><p>She put out her cigarette, despite the fact that only half was done.</p><p>"I'm going back inside. See you in there when you're done fucking up your lungs."</p><p>"Santana, stop-"</p><p>A hand caught her around her wrist quickly, causing the brunette to wince in pain as fingernails grazed the covered area, and she turned around quickly. She looked straight at the blonde, who was stood there with concern and confusion on her face, giving her a shrug and a look which screamed, "what the fuck are you going to say, then?" on her face.</p><p>"What was that for?"</p><p>The brunette shrugged. "You didn't have to grab me like that."</p><p>Dread filled her when she realised that Quinn just wasn't buying it. She stared straight at her for a few moments.</p><p>"You know that you can talk to me, right? About anything?"</p><p>Santana bit her lip.</p><p>She knew. She was sure that Quinn knew now. She was clever, she had this intuition to her, almost as good as Santana's own intuition, she could feel it.</p><p>She couldn't tell Brittany. Brittany couldn't know about this.</p><p>Still, she stared, shuffled a bit, feeling her heart in her throat as blood rushed through her ears, not sure what else to do or say or anything.</p><p>"Are you done?"</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hola! So I have a week off this week - it's been uneventful and also rather unproductive as of yet and it probably will continue along that route - so I might get another update out soon, but who knows! Sorry for this chapter taking a while, I was writing a li'l oneshot which I uploaded the other day, it's called 'Everything You Can't Control', would super love you to check it out if you haven't already. Anyway, don't have much else to say, besides thanks for once again clicking on this fic, here's Chapter 8!</p><p>TW for suicidal thoughts (not explicit, but they're there, so take care)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were halfway into the movie - <em>Dirty Dancing</em>; Sugar had brought it over, unaware that it was probably one of Santana's favourite movies - when the phone went off.</p><p>And that damn phone had been all it had taken to kill the mood, which had been a lot livelier than the room had seen these past few days. And, no, not because 'all phones should be on silence' when watching a movie, as Sugar had claimed after it went off. To be honest, if it was anyone else, Santana probably would have agreed, but honestly, she'd forgotten she'd had a phone over these past few days and she'd forgotten that she'd put it onto charge with Brittany's charger the other night. So, she reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed it off there, going to turn it off when she saw the two messages pop up on the home screen.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>MAMI: so is this why you haven't come home for three days?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>MAMI: I need to talk to you. Come home right away.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The ad.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, fuck, no, the ad-</em>
</p><p>She could feel the breakdown coming on, her breath catching in her throat and that tightness in her chest returning.</p><p>"I-" she stuttered, looking down to try and hide the tears in her eyes. "Excuse me-"</p><p>She shuffled off the bed and walked quickly to the bathroom, wiping her eyes as she went, her phone still grasped tightly in her hand. Brittany noticed this immediately, sitting up straighter from where she was sat, pushing off Sugar who had shoved herself between her and Mercedes and forced them to adjust their own places earlier, simply 'because it meant she had a better view of the small-screen TV', apparently.</p><p>"Santana?"</p><p>Mercedes bit her lip.</p><p>"Did we say something wrong?"</p><p>"No, that was her mom's ringtone," Quinn replied, evidently trying to keep her tone of voice calm to restore the calm in this room. Stressing would only make things worse, especially when Santana was involved in those things.</p><p>"Shit."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Brittany got up, walking quickly over to the ensuite and trying the handle. It didn't open. Locked.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>She knocked gently, taking a deep breath, hoping it would relieve some of the panic in her. "Santana, let me in. Please."</p><p>She was met with silence. Nothing. She couldn't hear tears or crying on the other side of the door.</p><p>She rattled the door again desperately.</p><p>"Santana, please!"</p><p>She could hear her voice breaking but still she received no response. She started to get worried, turning behind her with pleading eyes for help. Quinn exchanged her worried glance, going to lift herself up of the bed as well, trying to offer Brittany a small, hopeful smile as she made her way over to the other blonde.</p><p>"Should we go, or…"</p><p>"No, stay. For now. I'll let you know if anything changes."</p><p>"Just keep watching the movie," she heard Quinn mutter behind her. "She probably needs things to stay as normal as possible right now, and if that's having people over and spending her Saturday nights with friends eating Italian, so be it." She turned her attention to Brittany. "What sort of lock is it, Brittany? Lock and key or the one you slide across, or...?"</p><p>She prayed it wasn't the one you slid across because those were a trauma to deal with whatever the situation (she remembered when one in her house got jammed when she was eight and her father had to take the door off the hinges, which had probably been the only heroic thing he'd ever done come to think of it), and breathed a sigh of relief when she realised it was thumbturn, with a space on the other side to turn it if there was an emergency. She turned back to the other blonde's desk and rummaged through a few drawers until she found a ruler which she could probably use to turn it.</p><p>"Hey, I'm coming in, San."</p><p>Brittany gave Quinn a curt nod to tell her that everything was probably okay from now before entering the bathroom. She didn't know what to expect, but was kind of relieved when she was greeted with the image of her girlfriend sitting on the bathroom floor, knees tucked up to her chest as she stared at the floor with teary eyes. Her phone was clasped tightly in one hand and she was trembling slightly, but it could've been a lot worse considering the girl's emotional state over these past few days. She offered her a small, sad smile and closed the door behind her, going to sit in front of her. Quietly, she took the phone from the girl's hand and placed it on the sink behind her.</p><p><em>Out of sight, out of mind</em> - that had probably also been the attitude Santana had to all this before it had happened, but she wasn't going to think about that right now.</p><p>"I didn't want to break in front of them," Santana said quietly. She laughed harshly. "But I guess I did that anyway, huh?"</p><p>Brittany shook her head.</p><p>"They're good. They understand what you're going through."</p><p>"Nobody understands," she sniffled. She was staring back at the floor, tracing a nail along the crack in the tile, and at this point, Brittany could see clearly she was shaking. She reached out for her, lifting her chin up to look at her and the latina let out a sob.</p><p>"Hey. Maybe not. But we're all trying. Just… help us understand, okay? You can't shut people out now that this has happened."</p><p>Santana shook her head.</p><p>"My mom-"</p><p>She cut herself off, feeling another sob coming and clasping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.</p><p>"I guess the ad has aired, hey?"</p><p>"We knew it was going to happen."</p><p>Santana shook her head helplessly. "I was hoping that maybe it wouldn't… maybe they'd be able to get it down at the last minute, but they didn't."</p><p>Her voice was trembling and she was looking desperately at Brittany, eyes frantically begging her to do something, anything to help, when she didn't even know how to help herself. And Brittany, at loss of the whole situation, just stared back. It was a while before either girl spoke again, Santana resting her chin on the other girl's shoulder as her body shook.</p><p>"I wish it would all just go away," she started, and Brittany felt haunted at how lifeless her voice sounded. "I wish I could just run away from it all… disappear. I feel like things will never get better. My life is over. Nobody wants me. My family won't want me. Everyone will hate me. We live in the midwest. We go to the worst school ever. You know how people think. You know what happened to Kurt and Blaine. Things aren't gonna get better. And there's no way to try and fix it all up. What's even the point in trying?"</p><p>The blonde pulled away suddenly, and she thought that it just made everything worse. The latina was just staring at her. Her eyes were lifeless too, or at least zombie-like, dark and sad with bags under them and remnants of the makeup she hadn't bothered properly taking off the other night.</p><p>"Santana-"</p><p>"It's the truth," she whispered, "it feels that way, at least."</p><p>"Do you really believe it?"</p><p>Brittany, unsure what to do, pulled Santana in her arms again. Every one of her limbs felt heavy again and she could feel the lump in her throat grow.</p><p>It was kind of only in that moment when she realised just how bad this was. How bad this was, and how quickly she needed to get help from someone else.</p><p>"Right now I do," Santana whispered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ayy, long time no write! Haven't been particularly busy, just preoccupied, but here's another chapter to the fic! Not sure how much longer this fic will be, but I say no more than 15-20 chapters, just gotta try figure out something to end it on really! But, still, not gonna be happening for a little while just yet!</p><p>TW for suicidal thoughts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Santana woke up the next morning, it was light again, and this time Brittany was sat at her desk with her laptop. The brunette lay there under the covers for a few moments, her eyes still shut as she tried to think back to and process everything that had occured in the past few days. She'd given up pretending it was all a dream at this rate. Her head ached dully and if she didn't know better, she would've thought she'd just had a drink the night before, but she knew deep down that it was probably just a tension headache, or that she was dehydrated.</p><p>Giving it a few minutes and Brittany still sitting in front of her laptop, having not realised that her girlfriend was awake yet, Santana somehow managed to find the energy to get up from under the covers. She felt dizzy and faint for a couple of seconds as she sat at the edge of the mattress, but pushed herself up regardless and padded across the carpeted floor to where Brittany was. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulder and planting a tender kiss on her cheek.</p><p>She heard the blonde giggle softly beneath her. "Good morning to you too."</p><p>"'Morning."</p><p>"Lemme finish this sentence, baby," Brittany whispered, pausing for a few seconds before finishing off her work and saving, pushing the laptop down and spinning around. Santana couldn't see what she was writing, but she assumed it was probably some literature essay of sorts, since she knew Brittany's teacher set one most weekends, which was kind of ridiculous in her opinion. She smiled as Brittany turned her attention to her again, spinning around on her chair and taking Santana's hands in hers, holding her wrists. Santana frowned as Brittany's face seemed to fall of a sudden.</p><p>She held her breath. "What is it?"</p><p>"We need to talk about last night, San."</p><p>Santana took note of how sad and sorry the blonde's tone was. She stared at the girl, unsure of how to answer for several moments, before breaking the girl's contact and walking back over to her side of the bed.</p><p>Last bathroom. The ad. Sitting on the bed until half one in the morning with Quinn and Brittany trying to do something, anything to bring her back to life, try and get her to engage in the conversation despite the fact that she was completely numb.</p><p>She took a deep breath, trying to play it cool. "What about it?"</p><p>"You said you didn't want to be here anymore, Santana. That stuff is serious."</p><p>"I'm fine."</p><p>Brittany shook her head firmly, pulling a knee up to her chest and pushing the desk chair closer to the bed with her other left. "You're not fine, Santana. And I was talking to Quinn, before she left, when you were asleep, and she thinks you're depressed or something."</p><p>The latina was internally beating herself up about how she fell asleep when Quinn was still here, and her heart began to race when she remembered that Quinn probably knew her secret now, and she had probably at least figured it out. What panicked her even more was the idea that they were talking about her when she was out. People talking behind her back had been one of Santana's biggest fears since she was in middle school, and it didn't matter if it was one of her best friends and her girlfriend now, it was still something she didn't completely adore.</p><p>"Talk to me, Santana."</p><p>She bit her lip and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know how I can be happy when all this is going on, to be honest. That doesn't make me depressed, though."</p><p>"You've been sleeping a lot too, Santana," Brittany continued. "And you haven't been eating. And you're just not <em>you </em>anymore."</p><p>"And?" Santana questioned, but it didn't take long to realise that there was no bite or malice in her words. It was like she didn't have the energy for it. "I'm tired. And I'm not hungry, anyway."</p><p>"Forgive me for being worried about you, Santana."</p><p>She swallowed hard, biting back tears as she stared at the edge of the bed. That feeling in her chest was back, not the panicky one but the other one, the one which felt like a weight was being hung from her. She looked up only when she felt the bed dip and arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She sighed, settling her head in Brittany's chest and just letting her hold her.</p><p>"What if it gets bad, though? Like, what if you're actually depressed."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"You said that you wanted it to all go away," Brittany said sadly. "Did you mean that?"</p><p>Did she? Did she mean it? She remembered saying it, she remembered feeling it, but that was all she really remembered. And, yeah, she'd felt it that time she was in the bathroom the other day. She'd felt it in the moments after Sue had told her about the campaign ad, when she'd found herself pacing the bathroom and staring at herself in the mirror with absolutely no idea what she was going to do anymore.</p><p>No, she wasn't depressed, she told herself. She was just scared. Fear was the only thing coursing through her veins right now, and it felt like it would never stop. It felt like everything in her world was crumbling down around her, everything she knew was gone and she was stuck in this unknown purgatory, and she didn't know how to function anymore.</p><p>She chuckled dryly, wincing at how harsh her laugh sounded. "I'm not going to kill myself, Brittany."</p><p>The blonde stared at her for a while, a little too long so that it kind of felt like she was psychoanalysing her for a couple of seconds.</p><p>"Well, maybe we should speak to someone, anyway," she said eventually. "Like, about how you're feeling? Didn't Mr Schue give you that counsellor's number? Maybe they can help."</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"Or you could talk to Emma?"</p><p>She scoffed. "Yeah, nope."</p><p>Brittany sighed in frustration and sadness. "Santana, please. You're hurting. And you're not you and I don't like it."</p><p>"It's not your fault," the latina whispered. She went to say something else, but she wasn't sure what she was meant to be saying right now, so she didn't bother. She just let the room stay silent for as long as she could. She'd zoned out so much that she didn't really know how long they were lying in silence for.</p><p>"You still have to tell your mom," Brittany said.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"I'm gonna help with that. As much as I can," the blonde continued, stroking Santana's slightly ruffled hair from sleeping on it. "Quinn's gonna help, she said, too. We'll figure out something, Sanny, I promise."</p><p>"Hmm," Santana murmured. "I hope it's gonna be a better idea that I have, because I don't know what I'm doing right now, Brittany. Like, at all."</p><p>"We will," she whispered. "I'm not gonna let you get hurt any time soon, Santana. I promise. And I keep my promises."</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woweee guys, I'm at loss. Not sure really how to function currently with this whole COVID19 thing, it has taken a real toll on me mentally, but we're taking it once day at a time. Have lost a whole lot and I am really missing friends, routine, my main hobby which has been pretty much cancelled just as the season started, I can't see family for a long time now as they were meant to be coming over in May, but, well, now they can't. I miss uni, I miss the animals, and I think my work placement may be cancelled which is scary because I won't be able to pass without it... but, we're gonna try our best to fight through this. All the love, loves... it is a scary time, everything is uncertain, but I promise you that things are gonna work out and that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Also, your girl is celebrating her bday today! She is the dancing queen... 19... and on quarantineee! Quarantine bdays aren't actually that bad, TBH... I just miss my friends and my good ol' fave Italian restaurant I was supposed to be going to if only it wasn't closed! GRR! But, anyway, here's another chapter... did my best with it, TBH, forgot I'd written half of it already so struggled to get back into it, but here we go! Stay safe loves!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>School on Monday was destined to be crap from the second the alarm went off, if not before then.</p><p>Yeah, it was going to be nice to do something, actually leave this house, and take her mind off the issue at hand. But at the same time, everyone was going to know about the ad. Everyone will have seen it. The teachers, the students, everyone.</p><p>Which is why it was also Monday morning that Santana found herself leaned over the sink with a razor blade in hand again, panting. The idea of everyone knowing, everyone whispering and staring as she walked down the hallway, minding her own business, was terrifying.</p><p>She wasn't hungry. Even if she was, she couldn't stomach it. Even the thought of food was making her stomach churn uncomfortably.</p><p>The thing was, she realised, more to do with the fear of people talking about her than actually attacking her. She was fine carrying an argument most of the time, although the way she'd reacted to Finn the other day in the hallway scared her, when she'd just frozen in her spot, unable to function. But, yeah, it was mainly the whispers which threatened her the most.</p><p>"Santana?" she heard a knock at the door. "Mom's giving us a ride there, but you've gotta hurry up."</p><p>Brittany's mom was so nice. Not just the rides to school, but with everything she did it was for her kids. She was a world away from her own mother.</p><p>"Santana, are you okay in there? You've been in there a long time."</p><p>She cleared her throat.</p><p>"I- I'm good. I'll be out in a sec, then I'll come downstairs."</p><p>She heard the blonde murmur something, but she was too preoccupied with grabbing some toilet paper to pay much attention. She held it over her wrist for a few minutes to stem the bleeding, and then put it aside so that she could pull on her borrowed leggings and her bra before replacing the bandage which had previously wrapped it. She looked a sorry state, to say the least. She knew deep down that she would very much regret what she'd been doing to herself later on, but she wasn't sure how far ahead she could really think right now.</p><p>Brittany couldn't know about it. It would break her heart. And Santana wasn't really sure that she could bring herself to try and explain herself and her actions. It was better that the topic would be left as it was.</p><p>It was fine. It was coming up to winter, she could wear jackets whenever she could, but it was more of an issue of when it came to performing. She guessed she could try and cover it up somehow at sectionals.</p><p>Wary of time, she cleared up, reapplied her mascara as quickly as she could, and threw on a sweater. She couldn't be bothered with her Cheerios uniform, and, besides, it wasn't even on her right now so she couldn't put it on anyway. Still, she tied her hair in the furniture Cheerios ponytail, before leaving the bathroom and grabbing the bag she'd brought home with her as she went downstairs.</p><hr/><p>Santana's leg wouldn't stop jiggling up and down the whole of the car journey to school. Brittany had noticed pretty much straight away, knowing that it was a habit of the shorter girl, something she did when she was anxious about something. She'd never admit it, and always dismissed it with something like 'it was comfy' or 'she was bored' and that being the reason why she did it. Instead of questioning it, Brittany placed her hand on the girl's kneecap instead, hoping that it would at least stop the nervous action, and ideally calm the other girl down a bit.</p><p>When they got to the school drop off area, Brittany got increasingly nervous. She turned to face Santana, trying to nonverbally ask her what she wanted to do when she got into the school building itself, but the latina was avoiding eye contact as best she could. So, she said goodbye to her mom, told her that she'd let her know if everything was okay, and Whitney Pierce had told Santana to call her if she wanted to be picked up at any time, which was a deal which seemed fine to both of them.</p><p>"Santana," Brittany whispered, waiting in the school car park just after her mom had left, "what do you want to do?"</p><p>The blonde had no idea what she was supposed to do, frankly, so she figured it was best to let her girlfriend decide for her. With the ad and all, and with the classic McKinley High gossip which followed the popular kids more than anyone imminent, she didn't know whether to give Santana space or to try and deter the rumours which were most likely circulating. The issue with that was that she wouldn't be there if anything bad happened, if the latina needed her for support, or if a repeat of Thursday's panic attack was to happen.</p><p>"I don't know, Brittany," the Latina mumbled. "I just want things to be normal."</p><p>The blonde sighed. As much as they tried to fight it, nothing would be normal now. At least, it wouldn't be normal for a while.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Woweeee, two chapters in a day? Love that for me. Don't have an awful lot more to say besides that I've eaten my bodyweight in coffee cake and Reese's today, and that is how D is getting through quarantine life. Later loves!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was second period - Spanish - that she'd been called over the speakers that she were to come to Sue's office. To be honest, she was relieved that she'd been called out early. The whole past half hour had been tormenting. Mr Schue hadn't stopped giving her pitiful, wary glances all lesson. Finn, whom she shared the class with, was sat a few rows along from her, but he had been covering his face with his hand the whole time, as if he was scared to look at her.</p><p>So he should be.</p><p>The whole day had been kind of crap, really. She was sick of people staring at her. She was sick of the sniggers and the dirty looks from some people, the hungry looks from some of the guys, and the pity from a couple of people.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, Finn. This is why I didn't want to come out. At least, this is why I didn't want to come out yet.</em>
</p><p>So, yeah, she was quite glad to have to pack up her things and head down the hallway into Sue's office, where she found her sat with her glasses on, reading something on her computer. The older woman looked up when she saw the girl standing there in the doorway.</p><p>"Have a seat."</p><p>The latina flinched at the familiarity of the words. It felt like deja-vu. Still, she managed to collect herself, and sat down at the chair opposite her. She tried to avoid eye contact, instead focusing on the cheerleading coach's zip of her tracksuit. Sue took her glasses off, and leaned onto the desk with her elbows.</p><p>"You're not wearing your cheer uniform," the older woman said bluntly. Santana hesitated, opening her mouth to say something as she tried to think of an excuse, but Sue cut her off. "I'm not mad at you. You're excused from practice this week anyway. I can't have you working on an already unstable pyramid when you're probably unstable yourself. And that's not a criticism by the way - it's the truth and it's for your own good."</p><p>Santana stared at her for a few moments, unsure what to say. Sue carried on talking, much to her semi-appreciation.</p><p>"You spoken to your parents?"</p><p>Santana shook her head. "I've been staying with Brittany."</p><p>"You gotta tell them at some point, Santana. You've got to do that. I can't do it for you. I can't speak enough Spanish to, anyway."</p><p>"I'm going to… tonight. After school…" she trailed off.</p><p>"Make sure you do. Hiding isn't going to do you any favours."</p><p>Santana bit her lip. She knew that it wasn't. She just didn't know any different than hiding. She'd spent as long as she could remember hiding herself, hiding her true feelings, and it was exhausting, going around every day putting on such a guard but coming home and lying in bed and crying and panicking and worrying, trying to pray that it wasn't real or something, and she was sick of it, but she was so used to it that she didn't know how to get out of that pattern.</p><p>And now, she had to face the music.</p><p>"Do-" she swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears which were just about coming now - "Do you know the ratings… how many viewers-"</p><p>"A lot of people watch the 6pm news, Santana," Sue sighed. It was weird to see Sue this… serious about something. She was pretty sure 'serious' wasn't even the right word for the context, but it was as close as she could get to thinking of the right word. Was there even a right word for this context? This context, which should never have even happened in the first place. That's how messed up this was. It was never meant to be like this. And she was never meant to care so much about how everyone else thought of her… she wasn't like that… or, at least, she was like that in front of anyone else…</p><p>"Hello? Santana?" the flinched out of her daze, blinking to find herself in front of Sue again. "You went somewhere. Anyway, I've told that ginger counsellor who needs counselling herself not to be surprised if you visit her. I'm not going to say that it's a good idea, because honestly I don't think it is, but it seems like a better idea than the rest of Glee club serenading you in some cult-ish fashion. Other than that, you're dismissed."</p><hr/><p>"Hey."</p><p>Santana glanced up to her side, trying to smile at Quinn's voice, but not doing a great job at it. Fortunately for her, the blonde shook her head and offered her one anyway sympathetically. She sat down next to her and rested her chin on her knee which she'd pulled up to her chest, and went between looking at her and looking down at the gymnasium where the Cheerios were practising.</p><p>"Coach okay with this?" she asked. Santana immediately understood what she was saying. She nodded.</p><p>"She gave me the week off," she replied. "Told me to have the week off, actually."</p><p>Quinn nodded up and down slowly.</p><p>"That's nice of her."</p><p>Santana gave a dry laugh. "She probably feels guilty for it. Since it was her opposition, and all, really. Oh, and Finn's fault for blurting it out."</p><p>"True," Quinn murmured. Silence followed for several minutes before either one of them spoke.</p><p>"Have you eaten?" Quinn asked after a while. Santana remained silent, avoiding the question she didn't know how to answer. Was she hungry? She didn't feel like eating, but she hadn't all day so she supposed she probably should eat something. Her thought process was cut off when she felt a flapjack wrapper being pushed into the palm of her hand. "Eat it. Not eating isn't going to make you feel any better than you do right now, trust me."</p><p>"Says you," Santana muttered. Quinn huffed.</p><p>"Says you, too."</p><p>The blonde rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Y'know, I started eating when Beth… appeared," Quinn went on. "I think I hated myself more than ever, and I spent every day walking on the edge, and I was more alone and hated and bitched about than ever. But I still ate."</p><p>Santana rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly away from her. "Good for you, Quinn. And this is relevant, because?"</p><p>"Just telling you to look after yourself. And not do anything stupid," she shrugged. The latina chewed at the inside of her cheek. "If not for you, do it for Brittany."</p><p>She wanted to open her mouth, tell her, shout at her that she was completely fine. But it was no use. She couldn't get words out.</p><p>"You're not alone, Santana. Come to Glee today. We'll help you through it. I promise."</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Jesus Christ this is so short and bad and feels like a 13 year old wrote it hahahah, but:</p><p>a) I started this the other day and then stopped, and once I do that I can't really get back into the chapter the same way UGH</p><p>b) I've spent my whole day getting absolutely nowhere with the most tedious, boring assignment which is only worth 10% of the module anyway and I feel like that's gonna be consuming my life until Friday by the looks of things.</p><p>Praying for all my readers right now, I hope you're managing to stay safe and healthy (both mentally and physically!) at these traumatising times!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the end of the day, she was sick of it. She was sick of everyone looking at her differently. She was sick of the catcalls, and she was sick of feeling paranoid every time someone looked at her, every time she passed someone talking. Her skin crawled at the thought of what they were saying. Part of her wanted to know everything, but the other part of her didn't.</p><p>So, here she was, at the end of the day, in front of her locker, feeling a new kind of alone as a group of Cheerios down the hallway were staring at her, clearly gossiping amongst themselves, indefinitely about that stupid commercial.</p><p>She didn't even like that group. But at least before all this, they respected her. And now, here they were, treating her like a stranger, insignificant, mocking her and she couldn't do anything. She didn't have the energy to fight back. She was too scared and too exhausted and so, <em>so </em>done with this already.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>Santana jumped at the voice behind her, turning swiftly to face the blonde. She gave her a feeble smile.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>"I missed you last lesson," Brittany uttered quietly. "You okay?"</p><p>Santana nodded. "Same."</p><p>"Are you sure?" Brittany didn't look convinced. The latina sighed.</p><p>"Yeah. Well, I'm having to tell my parents tonight, so I'm not really looking forward to that…"</p><p>The blonde nodded understandingly, but she still looked sadly at Santana, so the other girl looked away and tried to busy herself with clearing a few things out the way in her locker. "I saw you looking at those girls. Don't worry about them. They're stupid anyway."</p><p>Santana smiled.</p><p>"I thought you'd banned the word 'stupid' from your vocabulary?"</p><p>"Yeah, well, they deserve it. They <em>are </em>stupid. And you shouldn't be worrying about what everyone else is saying anyway."</p><p>The latina shrugged, looking away and breaking the eye contact. "Yeah, well, I am. And I can't seem to help that."</p><p>Brittany sighed and leaned against the locker next to her.</p><p>"Why can't you see yourself as beautiful and amazing and perfect as I see you?" she asked sadly. "I have so much love for you that I could give you half of it so that you could love yourself and it would still be too much love for me to handle."</p><p>Santana bit her lip, feeling her eyes well up but she managed to push them back and, unable to find the words right away, she shrugged. She felt sad about what Brittany was saying, but she couldn't find herself able to do much about it. She felt numb, like her thoughts weren't quite making sense and she couldn't bring herself to say them, anyway.</p><p>The numbness somehow managed to transform to fury and she slammed her locker shut as she remembered the one reason why all this crap was happening in the first place.</p><p>"We should get to the choir room," she said eventually. "I saw Shelby earlier and she said something about joining back together for a lesson, and we don't want to be late for another Berry solo."</p><p>Brittany sighed, watching her stride away, and trailed after her, a feeling inside that this lesson probably wasn't going to be as good an idea as Mr Schue or someone probably thought it would be.</p><p>Still, she kept her fingers crossed as she followed after her girlfriend, not wanting to uncross them out of fear for Santana, hoping from the bottom of her heart that things would go back to the way they were before, but happier.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey loves! Happy Easter, if you celebrate it! Bit odd this year without family, friends, Church if you go there at Easter, but it's all for the better in the end! Just eat chocolate and it'll be okay, haha! Just hoping and praying for some degree of normality back soon, I miss the world and I miss a routine consisting more of eat, sleep, watch Netflix and play Sims. Anyways, here's another chapter... stay safe and stay in, y'all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The way that everyone was looking at her - the way that had been looking at her all day, in fact - was beginning to make her feel uneasy, it made her skin crawl and it made her inner arms itch under her jacket. It was a few minutes before Glee club was meant to start, or, at least, Glee club was supposed to have started already but Will and Shelby weren't here yet, so everyone else was kind of congregated in the room, chatting, gossiping. And she knew that they were probably talking about other things - the student elections, the actual elections, what they'd done over the weekend, college applications, or whatever - but she just knew that everyone else <em>knew</em>. And, of course they knew; it was the centre of the school gossip right now, probably more so than those stupid elections, and, dare she say it, it was probably the centre of the town gossip.</p><p>Everyone knew, and there was nothing that she could do about it.</p><p>"Hey," she jumped a bit as Brittany put her hand on her knee and scooted her chair a bit closer to hers. "It's going to be okay. I promise."</p><p>She opened her mouth to argue otherwise, but the words were forgotten as soon as Will and Shelby finally walked in. She averted her vision to the floor, trying to ignore the way Shelby was trying to catch her attention and the way that Mr Schue was looking at her.</p><p>"So," Mr Schue started, "we did have another lesson planned for this week, but it can wait, because we decided that following some recent… <em>events… </em>we should perhaps think of another theme for this week."</p><p>Santana grimaced at the emphasis the Spanish teacher put on 'events' whilst also staring at her.</p><p>"So, I think it would be a good idea to let Finn, who kind of came up with the lesson for this week, say something. If you will, Finn."</p><p>
  <em>Oh, so Finn came up with this? When he was the one who created the issue?</em>
</p><p>"Lady music week."</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck?</em>
</p><p>"For ladies and by ladies," he continued. Finn walked further up to where Santana was sat, a nervous look on his face - <em>as he should</em>, Brittany thought to herself, but she didn't do anything besides squeeze Santana's hand in support. He looked kind of disappointed when neither of them said anything, but passed it on to Kurt and Blaine anyway.</p><p>Santana couldn't ignore how genuine they seemed. To be honest, of course they'd be the most understanding of it all; they'd both been through it, both the harder way from what she'd seen and heard, and they'd been some of the first to try and talk to her at the start of the lesson and throughout the school day when she'd seen them so far. It kind of made her smile, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel sad and irritated. She didn't want to be treated like this anymore: damaged, alone, struggling, weak. She wanted to go back to things the way they were before this, but where she could be with Brittany instead of hiding it.</p><p>They sang 'Perfect' by P!NK, which was a nice gesture admittedly and she'd listened to that song a lot before, even though she much preferred the explicit version to get her frustration out to rather than the radio edit; still, it was Glee club, so there was that rule that they had to use the radio edit in case Sue or Figgins came and attacked them for it and tried to get the club disbanded. Sure, Kurt and Blaine's attempt at rapping was kind of crap, and judging by the awkward look on Rachel's face she realised pretty quickly that it wasn't just her with that opinion, but other than that, it was appreciated.</p><p>She song ended, and she kind of gave them a faint smile and shrug in appreciation, which the couple seemed to understand as a nonverbal thank you.</p><p>"So does anyone else have anything else they want to sing right now?" Mr Schue continued, getting up again. Rachel put her hand up, but he ignored her, and for that Santana was thankful because she was pretty sure she was on Finn's side in all this, which was understandable but also really irritating. "Okay then. Why don't we have a think and then we can carry this on tomorrow? Oh- okay, Artie? Do you have something?"</p><p>Brittany's grip on her knee tightened when the boy wheeled himself forward. She had the faintest idea that what he was about to say wouldn't be so friendly, since she knew him and Santana had rivalled - or something along those lines - for her, and she had kind of left him for her, even though they had kind of broken up beforehand or something.</p><p>"Why are we helping her?" he said, staring directly at where Santana and Brittany were sitting. "She's only been mean to us? These past few years, whatever we've done for her, she's just spat in our face without any appreciation?"</p><p>"Artie-" Mr Schue tried to speak up but it was useless.</p><p>"No, let me finish-" he continued. "Kurt and Blaine just sang to her, but we didn't even get a thank you. We didn't get a thank you for a whole week being dedicated to trying to help her. It's no give and all take with her. Why don't any of you guys see that?"</p><p>"Artie, I think that's enough," Finn said eventually. "This week is about helping Santana, not breaking her down."</p><p>The latina shook her hand and rose from her seat, making it to the centre of the room, trying to ignore how her heart raced and her throat hurt from the tears which were going to fall if she didn't do something quickly enough.</p><p>"No, you know what?" she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I do deserve this, maybe I do deserve an ad running telling the whole world something I've kept secret forever. Maybe I don't deserve her, because this is going to hurt her as much as it's going to - and already is - hurting me. But if you think that singing music sung by women at me is going to teach me that it's okay to like girls then go for it, but don't be disappointed when I'm still hurting next week when I have no family to turn to anymore because they don't like the fact that I love Brittany, even if you did go and cover a Kelly Clarkson song to try and help me."</p><p>The tears were streaming down her face before she could stop them, and she found herself gasping for air as a sob came out. She looked at Brittany through her tears, who was sat there crying herself, and it made her feel a hundred times worse than she was already feeling.</p><p>"I appreciate the idea but Artie's right. Singing at me isn't going to help me. The only way you can help me is if you can build a time machine and go back a week, to right before Finn shouted that I was gay in the middle of a crowded hallway, and before that girl heard and told her uncle some high school gossip which just so happened to be true and damaging, at that," she gasped for air, turning to the taller boy. "Can you do that, Finn? Can you go back and stop that from happening?"</p><p>"Santana, I-"</p><p>She shook her head, ignoring Finn's fumbling around for words, and looking back to Brittany. "And, by the way, I am appreciative of what you're doing. Kurt and Blaine <em>know </em>that. But you can't pretend that this is going to fix everything. I'm sorry."</p><p>She turned on her heel and left down the corridor, wiping her tears away. Brittany got up and followed her almost immediately.</p><p>The room filled with silence.</p><p>"She does know that time machines don't really exist, though, right?" was the first thing someone - Sugar - said after that.</p>
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